i never do these but my brain has found something to fixate on so here we are
so i def headcanon nightowl as having bpd. (listener is his fp; he splits on them/others; his emotions are sudden, extreme, and polarised, he suffers from intense fear of abandonment; rejection sensitivity dysphoria?; intense anger; self destructive behaviour and coping mechanisms (e.g. excessive drinking); i could go on. i could write an essay. maybe i will. but not now.)
so like. i was thinking,,, of some nightowl angst. with a sprinkling of some more bpd traits in there. [pls be mindful of your own triggers, this is angsty, take care of your noggin pls!! if i miss any triggers in the tags, lmk asap! also like. spoilers.]
nightowl & bloomic are all belonged to @robobarbie and team!!
so. events of nightowl’s route go ahead as per. but what if he doesn’t believe you in the end?
maybe at first, in the moment, especially bc you’re his fp, he is filled with the most intense joy when you tell him you like him back. with everything that happened, he expected you to leave or at the very least scream and yell. but you didn’t. you had actually listened and understood and still liked him through it all. it was a fucking miracle.
or a lie.
as soon as you log off for the night, the thoughts come. that you were actually just pitying him. that you felt sorry for him. that you didn’t want to hurt him, because you were too kind to ever hurt anyone. he had made you feel bad, by projecting all of his shit onto your words, and now you were walking on eggshells to try to appease him. shit. fuck.
he avoids the server for a few days. he sees the pings coming in, from june, from onion, from you. he ignores them. the shame, the embarrassment, is too much. they probably all knew by now. that you had agreed to date him out of pity. you didn’t even need to say it outright; they’d all seen how he’d treated you, and could put two and two together. you’d agreed out of sympathy. out of fear.
fuck. his fucking parents were right. onion was right. everyone was. he was useless, and damaged, and nothing could change that, no matter how hard he tried.
and then another thought crept in. what if you truly did like him the same way? what if it wasn’t out of any sort of moral obligation, but genuine feelings? somehow, it just made him feel worse. because it was inevitable that he would fuck up again. his jealousy would get the best of him. or he would read too much into your messages again, and blow up at you. or he would fail, or relapse, and have to face your disappointment in him. oh jesus.
no. no matter what the situation was, it would be better if he just cut things off. he couldn’t handle the pity, and he couldn’t handle hurting you again. there was no way this would work.
he logs on one last time. goes into your private channel.
i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have told you that i like you. i’ll only hurt you. we should let this go.
you don’t even get a chance to respond before the bloombot announces he’s been removed from the server. the other channels explode with concern. where is he? what happened? y/n? where did he go?
no number to call. no name to search. he was gone. he was gone forever.
Let me know if I need to add a trigger warning or if you spot any spelling mistakes.
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You had been messaging Quest all day about visiting him. Asking him for his advice about what tickets you should get, what days you should fly, how many days you should stay? He hadn't responded until you were both off work, but he didn't answer any questions, he just ignore everything you said and sent what seemed like a cold message.
We need to talk. Message me when you get home, then we can call. I have something to tell you.
Your anxiety started to make guesses about what he could mean, what he wanted to talk about and why. You rushed home after reading the message, when you got home you sent a message saying you'd wait for him to call. And that's what you did, for about ten minutes, you sat there watching yourself on the screen, fixing your appearance to distract yourself. You froze when his face appeared on screen, but you quickly got over it and greeted him.
"Hi!"
There was a pause, there was never a pause. Quest sighed before he let out a low hello.
"Hey."
It was apparent that something was wrong, his voice was low, his eyes avoiding the camera, the way he fidgeted with his hands. Your instinct to comfort who you love kicked in.
"Are you okay Quest? Do you want t-"
"I need you to be quiet for a minute."
You're interpreted by Quest, he rarely interrupted you, it made you uncomfortable. Even though his tone wasn’t rude, and he clearly wasn't trying to be you still felt offended, but you obeyed anyway not wanting to worsen your lover's mood. You gave him the time he needed, quietly fidgeting with yourself as you anxiously waited. You looked away for a millisecond only to hear your name whispered in a painful voice, you whipped your head back to the screen, meeting Quest's eyes.
"I have something to confess. I've known about it for a while but I was in denial, but now I feel that I just haven't admitted it to protect you. I truly care about you, you have been so caring, understanding, and loving. You make an amazing partner..."
You smiled at the praise as you held eye contact with your boyfriend through the screen before he broke it.
"But..."
"Not for me. I don't love you romantically."
He paused, again, it was still unnatural for him to let the silence shine, but you weren't focused on that. Your mind became a jungle gym for your anxiety. Possible ending for the sentence bouncing around your brain, making your heart race with all the exercise it was being put through. You waited for Quest to continue, begging him to shut down your anxiety. You watch as his eyes flicker back up to yours, then away, then again but this time he holds it. He finishes his confession, his voice emotional but still, matching his eyes.
Your breathing hiccups as your heart freezes, Quest sees your reaction but doesn't hesitate to continue, his voice now filled with guilt.
"I love you as a person, as a friend. I thought I loved you romantically but I realized I loved the idea of being loved. When you told me how you felt, I felt ecstatic that it was possible for someone to love me even after knowing about my life, my past. Though I realized I loved the care you had for me, and I tried. After I realized it wasn't romantic love I tried to fall in love with you, fake it till it came true, but-"
Quest pauses as you let out a loud sob, your hand flying to your mouth, imprisoning your voices. You see the pity on Quest's face, you nod for him to keep going.
"But when you started to plan a trip to visit me, I felt guilty, I knew I had to tell you before you spent all that money just to see a boyfriend who doesn't love you the way you thought he did."
You catch a glimpse of yourself, how messy the tears have made your face, you turn off the camera, ashamed. You watch Quest reaction through the clouded vision of your tears, his eyebrows crease together when he sees your face disappear, he recovers before continuing.
"I'm- I'm really sorry, I want you to know that, I know I hurt you and I understand that you need time, but please know that I still care for you, and I still want to be your friend and that I'm grateful for everything you've done for me."
Quest finishes talking, he waits for any resonance, but when he doesn't get one he sighs.
"I'll be going now, and once again, I'm sorry, for everything, you deserve better."
He leaves the call, leaving you alone, you don't bother leaving as you cry and scream, hoping no one joins the call.
Warnings: moody, false feelings, joke/prank about dating, a bit salty.
Jisoo
Tried her hardest to never let you find out, or at least not fully, especially when she thought she could fall for you and hopefully cover it up. It was supposed to be a small thing which she felt stupid for even thinking something like love would be small in the first place. Jisoo knew and saw the way you loved her, the way your crush continued to blossom and thrive with her constantly around. You honestly thought everything was too good to be true which unfortunately you ended up being right about.
"I didn't mean for it to go this far, I couldn't stop seeing you be so happy, especially when it was because of me. I wanted you to stay happy for as long as you could."
Jennie
Really didn’t think it would become as serious as it did, she didn’t think you liked her in the first place so, being in a false relationship with her unknowingly, slowly started to eat at her. The way you had so much love for her, expecting that same level of feeling from Jennie hurt her, she could never reciprocate it, at least not to the extent that you deserved. Despite knowing how wrong it was she never came forward until you stood there confronting her about it all.
“I know. I- it wasn't supposed- I wanted to tell you. I wanted to tell you the right way, I just needed to buy myself time to find out how and I'm sorry."
Rosé
She did love you, she fell for you while being in this messed up situation but, that didn’t matter though. She didn’t blame you, how could she? How could you believe anything she had to say after everything being just s joke this whole time. She hurt you and she didn’t want to continue fighting with you to believe her. She shouldn’t have done it in the first place. She fucked up point blank and there was no fixing it, not with you, not now anyway.
"It wasn't real. Not at first but- it became real. Our late night conversations, the 'I love you's', the kisses, all of it was real for me. I meant everything even if you don't think I did, my emotions were always real. "
Lisa
Not understanding to your pov, she loved you now so why did it matter if it started out as a lie? Seeing the way your face dropped once she said it out loud she finally registered just how bad that sounded. Tries continuously to apologize and comfort you without knowing she’s the whole reason you’re in distress. she didn’t like you mad and angry with her but she didn’t like you sad and crying over her neither. Even with the severity of the situation she just didn’t want this argument to be your guys’ last, she couldn’t let you go.
"Please, please stop crying I-, I didn't mean it to find so cold. I love you and can't lose you please just trust me. I'll fix it, I'll fix us I promise. Don't leave me, please baby."
I went a little link crazy in this chapter, but you all know that I love visuals! Also, the link for Nala and Bunme’s outfits for this chapter are HERE.
Link for Nala’s shape (she’s a curvy girl) HERE. (I just love this video, bruh. Her complexion and body....ugh.)
Enjoy #BunBunWednesday a little early this week! ❤️
Space Between (9)
“It is about time that you come out and socialize with us,” Shuri exclaimed with a wide smile as the woman continued to take apart her microbraids. “I was beginning to think we’d offended you.”
“I believe that the princess has been a little preoccupied. That’s all.” Nakia smirked as a hairdresser worked a prepoo treatment into her thick coils.
“Is that so?” Hawla chimed as another woman moved quickly to take her box braids down, the evidence that she was slightly overdue for a touchup shown by her slightly prominent new growth.
Nala rolled her eyes, trying not to let her discomfort show as the last of the hairdressers worked to undo her twists. Back in Niganda, she always handled her own her so allowing foreign fingers to have free range over her crowning glory was certainly a strange feeling.
“You all know that Bunme started school.”
“Yes, but what does that have to do with you?” Nakia tilted her head. “Surely, you do not mean to suggest that somehow tied up your schedule.”
“If anything, it should be the opposite.” Shuri shrugged.
“Perhaps she’s been tied up with other things.” Nakia gave a knowing look to M’Baku’s wife.
The leader of the Jabari tribe smiled coyly. “People.”
Nakia gigged. “Person.”
“And this is precisely why I was hesitant about an outing out with my brother’s best friend, his ex-girlfriend, and his current girlfriend-“
“Wait.” Nala sat up in the chair, quickly apologizing to the hairdresser who was in the middle of undoing a twist. “You and T’Challa used to date?”
“Yes, many years ago.” Nakia laughed loudly, almost with embarrassment.
“It was around the time Ramonda was hellbent on finding him a nice and suitable Wakandan woman to settle down with one day when he finally became king.” Hawla mocked Queen Mother’s velvety tone, sitting up and moving her shoulders with an eye roll. “The woman has always been unbearable.” She looked over at the princess of Wakanda. “No offense.”
Shuri shook her head. “I love mama, but she turns into a bit of a nightmare when it comes to brother. Far too controlling.”
Nala leaned back into her chair. “I suppose I do not fall into the category of a nice and suitable Wakandan woman.”
Nakia shot her a sympathetic smile. “Few do. Do not let her discourage you.”
“Especially when it is so painfully obvious how much T’Challa cares for you,” Shuri added on. “And how much you care for him.” Nala rolled her eyes and prepared to argue that the two were just friends. “And do not even try to deny it because of note how you failed to correct me when I referred to you as his girlfriend. You only inquired about his relationship with Nakia.”
Nala went to respond but quickly recognized that she had no room to talk. Shuri was correct. She’d most definitely failed to correct T’Challa’s sister when she’d referred to the older princess as his girlfriend. She might not have known what to classify her arrangement with T as, but she firmly believed that it was too soon to be labeling her as his partner.
“A mistake on my part.” She smiled in a tight line. “I am not his girlfriend, Shuri. We are just friends.”
Hawla and Nakia snickered, the pregnant woman being the first to speak.
“Still spewing that line out?”
“Perhaps she truly believes it.” Nakia joked, pulling her wrist as she smiled at something that flashed across her Kimoyo beads.
Hawla and Shuri shared a look, both withholding small smiles. It was as though the War Dog sensed the non-verbal conversation taking place and looked up and around the room. “What?”
“Oh, nothing.” Hawla feigned innocence, causing the princess of the River Tribe to roll her eyes.
At that moment, Dumi walked into the salon, causing all eyes to fall on him, the warrior pausing for a second before trekking over to Nala.
“Princess, I attempted to contact your sister again, but there is still no answer.” He informed with an edge to his voice.
“Very well.” She sighed with disappointment. “Please try again within another hour or so.” When he didn’t make an effort to move, she pressed him. “Is there something wrong?”
“Forgive me if I speak out of place your highness, but you and your sister have lived in the same palace for years and barely exchange five words to each other outside of dinner.” Nala gripped the arms of the chair, astonished that he would speak so openly about her familial affairs in a public setting. “And now that you are both in protective custody, secure locations, you suddenly have the desire to converse with her?”
“You are correct, Dumi.” She shot out of her chair, unsympathetic to the stylist as she was only concerned with the guard who stood before her. “You do speak out of place.”
He bit his lip and quickly dropped his head. “I do apologize, my princess, but when you rip me from my duties protecting princess Bunme.”
“Bunme is under the protection of Ayo whose abilities to guard her I am more than confident in.” She interjected sharply. “And after school, she is spending the day with T’Challa so need I even state the obvious in terms of if she needs your protection when she’s with him?” It was not lost on her how his jaw clenched at the mention of Bunme’s father. “Your services of guarding my daughter were not needed today. They were needed for exactly what you are doing, and I do not appreciate this questioning of my orders.”
“I....apologize, your majesty.” He bowed, slightly, reluctantly, the anger evident in his voice.
“Do not let it happen again.” She warned, turning back around to sit in her seat. By the time she looked up, he was out the door.
“Ha! Got em!” Shuri called out, dubbed over and clapping with a wide smile. The woman who was working on her hair shaking her head at the young teenagers forever American cultural references.
“Ignore her.” Hawla rolled her eyes. “Is everything alright with you two?”
“Dumi?” Nala raised a brow. “He’s been acting a bit strange for the past few days but nothing that I cannot handle.” This time, all three women looked at each other. “What?”
“Oh, come on now. Surely, you must know or, at the very least, see it.” Nala furrowed her naturally thick brows at Hawla’s opening statement. “Dumi fancies you, Y/N.”
Nala paused, scoffed, and laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“It is not ridiculous,” Nakia argued, leaning back into her chair as she prepared to get her hair washed. “You can see it in the way he looks at you. That territorial mentality extends far beyond the normal bodyguard/client hemisphere.”
Nala was listening but not accepting. Dumi was protective, yes, but they didn’t understand why. They didn’t know the history that she shared with him, the platonic history. He’d been assigned her personal guard the moment that she revealed her pregnancy to her parents. He’d been in the room with her, holding her hand as she gave birth (naturally, as her parents thought it an appropriate punishment for her ‘transgression’), offering encouragement as she cried and screamed through the painful ordeal. He was the first person that she authorized to hold Bunme, the first person to hear her little girl say her first word, the only positive male figure in Bunme’s life.
Well, until T’Challa.
So, to a certain extent, she could understand him being jealous.
Of Bunme and T’Challa. Not herself and the king. That was ridiculous.
“Although.....” Hawla leaned over in her chair to look out the window where Dumi was standing watch. “He is rather aesthetically pleasing.”
The sound of the door opening prompted the women to look up and see a Jabari warrior walking in, one who seemed to be no older than 20. Nala waited for Hawla to say something and was instead surprised when Shuri hopped out of her chair and ran into the young man’s arms.
The two spoke in hushed Xhosa tones, but it didn’t take much to figure out by the way he smiled down at the princess and the way she blushed, hitting his arm when he said something, that the two were more than friends.
Her mouth formed into an ‘O’ as Nakia sat up in her chair, a towel lightly patted around her hair to absorb excess water.
“I suppose you will meet him another time.” Nakia giggled as the two lovebirds appeared to be in their own little world.
“Why does T’Challa not approve of him?” Nala questioned with a sad smile. Shuri was a sweet kid who seemed to not cause any problems. She’d been nothing but kind to herself and Bunme since they’d arrived. She hated that the teen apparently had to sneak behind her brother’s back.
“He still thinks her still a child, he is Jabari, and he is eighteen,” Nakia said with a voice that indicated she found all of the reasons that she’d just listed to be absolutely ridiculous.
So did Nala.
“Firstly, she is sixteen, hardly a child. Secondly, are Jabari’s not still Wakandan? Thirdly, how hypocritical of him when he is nearly four years older than me?” She truly was incensed by how he could be so opposed to what must have been an okay pairing if both Nakia and Hawla saw no fault. “Honestly, he can be such a pompous bastard.”
Hawla laughed and clapped her hands. “uphelele kuye.” (She is perfect for him)
Nakia covered her giggles with her mouth. “Zinezinkani zombini, kodwa zilinganisana.” (They are both stubborn, but they balance each other out.
“uya kwenza ukumkanikazi omkhulu.” (She will make a great queen)
“I have no idea what the context is, but I’m sure that I agree if my inkling as to who and what you two are talking about is correct.” Shuri commented as the women realized that her boyfriend had left the building.
“And I have no idea what is being said, period,” Nala complained, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Don’t worry. No one is foolish enough to speak ill of you, period, let alone when you are in earshot. Unless they want to deal with my brother.”
“I am perfectly capable of fighting my own battles.” Her eyes burned with indignation. “Never mind that. Shuri….the young man-“
The scientist's eyes widened. “You won’t say anything to him, will you?”
“Of course not.” Nala’s face contorted with disgust even at the thought of betraying the teenager’s trust. “However, whenever you do decide to talk to him, let me know. I’ll help you plead your case.”
Shuri’s face lit up with surprise. “Do you mean that?”
Nala smirked. “Grilling into your brother and calling him out on his hypocrisy happen to be my speciality.”
The corner of the scientist mouth quirked up. “Thank you, Y/N.”
“It’s the least I can do. You’ve been so good to Bunme.” She looked around the room. “All of you.”
“Speaking of, just what does that best friend of mine has planned for that little girl?”
♔ ♔ ♔ ♔ ♔
“Why does she get to be the line leader? She’s not even Wakandan.”
Bunme made a ‘hmph’ sound as she whipped her head around, her eyes squinted and her chin raised as she proudly declared to the student who’d never been particularly fond of her, “Because I’m a princess.”
The little girl matched Bunme’s tone but also crossed her arms. “Not here you’re not.” Chronologically, she was two years older than Bunme but insistent on nagging the younger girl for reasons beyond Bunme’s comprehension. “Princess Shuri is our only princess.”
“I’m a princess of Niganda. Not Wakanda.” Bunme shot back in an annoyed voice, holding onto her doll as she turned back around but not before muttering. “Stupid.”
Unfortunately, the little girl heard and her hand immediately shot up. “Mrs. Kalala! She called me stupid.”
At the sound of a case of bullying, the teacher marched over from the end of the line where she was talking checking a message on her Kimoyo bracelet. “Bunme, is this true?”
Nala’s daughter looked down and pulled her doll to her chest. “Yes, but she was being mean to me first!”
“No, I wasn’t, freak!”
“Sessi!” The teacher gasped and turned to the other student. “Apologize, now!”
“Why?” Sessi sassed. “That’s what she is! Just like her mother.”
At the mention of Nala, Bunme snapped, her eyes watering. “Don’t talk about my mommy!” Before Mrs. Kalala could register what was happening, Bunme extended her free hand and sent out a gust of chilly ice in the direction of Sessi’s feet, completely covering the child’s feet in a matter of seconds.
The other kids shouted with excitement at the scene before them, prompting Ayo to kick the door in as she didn’t know if the commotion was from impending danger or something trivial. Nevertheless, it was her job to always be on guard.
“Hey!” Sessi cried out as she tried to lift her feet from the ground only to realize that she was frozen in that spot. “Look what she did!”
“Bunme!” Mrs. Kalala said in a panic as she bent down to try and kick the ice only to see as it was frozen solid, some of the other children laughing from the perceived amusement from the scene. “What have you done?”
“Do not speak to her in such a tone,” Ayo hissed, putting away her spear. She quickly regained her composure as she brought herself to the child’s eye level. “Bunme…” Her eyes and voice were both soft. “What happened?”
The little mutant sniffled and shook her head. “I didn’t mean it.”
“Can you make it snow?”
“I wanna see more ice!”
“What about rain?”
“Bunme, undo her feet this instant!”
“Would you all leave her be?” Ayo exclaimed in frustration as students and even the teacher started to bombard the poor child who looked as though she wanted to burst into tears.
Just then, another of the teachers stuck her head in the door, her face flustered with a mixture of excitement and arousal.
“The king is here.” Before she could finish, Bunme pulled herself from Ayo’s grasp and was heading for the door.
“Where are you going?” The teacher’s arousal quickly transformed into irritation as she grabbed onto Bunme’s arm. “Little girl, you are not to leave the classroom without permission.”
“Let me go!” Bume whined, her eyes threatening to spill over with tears. “Now!” The woman gasped, her eyes darting over the doll before she snatched it. “No!”
“You release her and that doll now!” Ayo stood to her full height, her tone one that was forceful and domineering.
“You are here to protect her from danger, not discipline.” The woman spat back, causing the Dora to narrow her eyes.
“Give her back!” Bunme started to cry, stomping her feet as she reached her free arm for her baby doll. “yeye ni mmoja wangu wa onle.” She moaned in Swahili. (she’s my only one!)
The stubborn instructor looked down at a weeping Bunme with disdain. “This child is out of control!”
“The only thing that will be out of control is my temper if you do not release both her and that doll immediately.” Came T’Challa’s dangerously calm voice from behind the chaotic scene causing all eyes to fall on him. “Now.” As though Bunme’s touch burned her, the frightened teacher practically thrust the doll into the little girl’s chest after letting go of her arm.
Bunme immediately ran over to T’Challa, the king bending down to pick her up as she buried her face into his neck, crying softly as he attempted to calm her down by rubbing her back.
“I’m sorry, Kitty.” She hiccuped into his skin. “I-I-I- didn’t mean it. She…she called mommy a-a-a freak.” He turned his head as she lifted hers to look at him, her lip quivering with fear. “Please don’t hate me.”
It was at that moment he knew that someone, possibly several people, was getting fired.
“Never.” He vowed, kissing her cheek, and laying her head against his shoulder, a small sense of satisfaction filling his soul when he felt her shaky cries start to subside.
“What is going on?” He hissed, his voice demanding answers. Immediately.
Ayo was the first to speak. “My king-“
“Not you.” He cut her off with the sharpness of a man who truly was incensed and eager for an explanation, one that better have brought satisfaction. “Them.” He’d switched over to Xhosa, not wanting Bunme to hear the possible profanities that were bound to leave his mouth.
Both teachers gulped, Bunme’s realizing that it’d be best if she were to start things off.
“There was a dispute between Bun and another student,” she gestured down to an equally nervous Sessi. “Words were exchanged-“
“And where were you when these words were being exchanged?”
Her mouth faltered as she quickly thought up a lie. “My king, I was tending to another set of children who needed my attention-“
Too bad he saw right through it. Yet, if he were to call her out on her dishonesty, he truly would have lost his temper, exacerbating Bunme’s fear. He didn’t want that, so he decided to feed into this story that she was feeding him.
“And Bunme did not?”
“Truly, it is unrealistic to expect me to be able to keep an eye on 25 children every second of the day-“
“What I expect is for you to do your job, something you are clearly incapable and incompetent at doing.” He chastised with all of the glacial connotations of an infuriated royal. “Consider yourself relieved of your duties.”
The woman gasped but kept her head low as she knew better than to argue with the king, especially with his general, the formidable Okoye, to his right and the child who he held a special likening to, in his arms.
“And you,” he turned his venomous glare onto the other instructor. “I could have you thrown in the prisons for putting your hands on her. She is of royal blood.”
“My king, do you not even care to know what she did-“
“Interrupt me again and your firing will be least of your worries,” he spat. “I could hear you from down the hall. How dare you say that she is out of control? You are not her mother. You are not even her teacher. And you should thank Bast that I am the one handling your disciplinarian actions instead of her mother or else the situation would be very different, I can assure you that.”
“I am truly sor-“
T’Challa turned on his heel and walked out right as she was in the midst of apologizing, the sound of Okoye coldly informing the women that they had one hour after the last child was picked up to clear out their things filling his ears.
“Kitty.” Bunme’s soft voice broke through as he stopped in the middle of the hall to give her his undivided attention.
“Yes, sam isipho?” He was extremely mindful of his tone this time around, aware that any sign of hostility might be misinterpreted as being directed toward her.
“Are you mad at me?” She whispered sadly.
He sighed and carefully dropped to one knee, forcing her to stand as he brought his hands to her arms. “Do you know what the name Bunme means?” She nodded slowly. “What?”
“My gift.” He absolutely loathed how low she was speaking, the complete opposite of her usual volume. Bast, he hoped this worked.
“And do you know what sam isipho means?” She shook her head ’no.’ “In my language, Xhosa, it means ‘my gift’.”
“Really?” His eyes lit up as the faintest of smiles appeared on her face. “But wait.” She frowned again thus causing him to do the same. “You didn’t buy or make me like mommy did.”
“No, I did not.” For some reason, her words brought a certain sadness to his soul, especially the ‘make me,’ but he brushed it to the side. “But you see, Bunme, some gifts are given to us,” his smile faltered as he reached out to cup her right cheek. “-even when we least expect them.”
She squinted one eye and tilted her head into his hand. “Like ice cream?”
“Yes, sam isipho. Like, ice cream.” He smiled and laughed softly before eyeing her face. “And do people usually get mad at gifts?”
She shook her head and giggled lightly. “No.”
“I didn’t think so.” He winked and brought his hand to hold her much smaller one. “Do you feel better now or would you like to return to the palace?”
She shook her head and brought her dolly to her chest. “I wanna be with you.”
His heart swelled as he leaned over and kissed the top of her head. It was the perfect answer as he needed her far away from the premises. At least, for a few more hours.
She and Nala.
“And be with me you shall, little one. Be with me you shall.”
♔ ♔ ♔ ♔ ♔
“I’m so happy!” Bunme squealed, trekking through the Forest of Solitude, her doll in one hand, two Doras in front of her and two behind her.
Okoye and T’Challa trailed not too far behind as to stand both watch and to converse in light conversation.
“That was quite a show you put on back at the school,” she commented causing the king to look at her out the corner of his eye. “I agree with your decisions, of course, but I am just saying-“
“What, general?” He sighed, chuckling as he watched Bunme start to skip through the greenery. “What are you saying?”
“Word of your favoritism for will spread.”
“It is not favoritism if it is what is right.”
“The truth always gets distorted in transit.” She reminded with a raised brow.
He remained quiet for a moment as Bunme started to question one of the Doras about something relating to the mountain in the distance. The mountain that was located on Panther Island.
“I make it no secret as to how I feel about her mother.” He finally spoke after a few minutes of silence. “What kind of man would I be if I did not accept her daughter as well?”
“I would expect no less, my king,” Okoye smirked then narrowed her eyes. “I take it you two have finally come to a compromise as she’s allowed you to take her child without her being in attendance.” A beat. “Praise Bast because I was just about ready to impale that stubborn woman.”
“Okoye…” She turned up her nose and reluctantly spared him a glance. “Be nice.” The general waved him off just as Bunme ran up to them, wide-eyed, mouth ajar.
“You have a kitty island?” The king looked up at the four Doras who all expressed various looks of ‘she asked, we had to tell her something’. He shut his eyes. “I wanna go!” She started to bounce on the heels of her feet. T’Challa slyly stood up and looked over at Okoye.
“Absolutely not,” she started out in a low, harsher whisper. “You and I both know what will happen if we ta-“
“Oooh! Can I get a baby kitty?” Both the king and his warrior shut their eyes as Bunme grabbed onto T’Chala’s pant legs, her head dropping as did her voice. “No one’s ever given me anything before except for my dolly.”
The two adults looked down at the little girl, a sense of guilt eating at them once her words hit the air. T’Challa wondered if that was the reason she clung to it so closely. Obviously, she meant no one outside of her mother, but whoever gave it to her must have been special to her.
He made a note to ask Nala who.
Okoye shook her head and started to walk away from the two.
“I shall prepare the Talon.”
♔ ♔ ♔ ♔ ♔
Nala knew that a day at the hair salon would be just that - a daylong event. However, she soon got the feeling that something suspicious was going on.
For instance, every hour or so, Nakia or Shuri, mostly Nakia, would receive a call that forced either woman to leave out the salon, upsetting her stylist. Even that did not make sense as Nakia’s hair took the least amount of time.
But what really tipped her off was when all four women were done and the other three were, for some reason, content on staying at the salon.
They claimed that they could stay there and talk. After, Nala’s hair was done, she was ready to go.
Nala’s argument was that she wanted to be at the palace when T’Challa and Bunme got home but the other females argued that she was being too overprotective.
However, she really wanted to point out that none of them had children and consequently had no room to talk, but she remembered what Hawla told her about her miscarriage and the fact that she was currently with child.
She kept her comment to herself and decided to go along.
At one point, Nala was damn near ready to find her way back even if she and Dumi had to walk when Nakia suddenly decided it was time for them go home.
Something else she found strange: Hawla decided to go with them instead of heading home even though M’Baku had specifically asked her to come straight back to the Lands as soon as she was done.
And the nail in the coffin was when both sets of groups ended up arriving at the palace at the same exact time.
Yes….something was definitely going on.
“Bun Bun!” Nala shouted once she stepped off the jet, her eyes landing on her baby girl.
“Mommy!” Bunme yelled, breaking from T’Challa and running toward her mother, Nala lifting her and spinning her around. “I missed you!”
Nala smothered her in kisses. “I missed you too, baby. Did you have fun?”
She nodded furiously. “It was the best day ever, mommy! Kitty is the best! He got me Little kitty! You can come with us next time!”
Nala laughed, placing her daughter back on the ground. “I’m glad.” She frowned when she caught onto something else. “Little kitty?”
“Come see!” Bunme grabbed her hand and dragged her toward the T’Challa’s Royal Talon, the king placing a small hand on her back that caught her by surprise.
“Keep an open mind.” He said in a hushed voice.
She furrowed her brows. “About wh-“ Her stomach dropped as she watched two Doras help a small, black panther off the jet, Bunme running up to it, petting and hugging the animal. She snapped her head in his direction. “You didn’t.”
“Nala-“
“I am going to kill you in your sleep.” She threatened through a gritted smile.
“Isn’t she cute, mommy?” Bunme squealed, laying her head on the animal who offered no reaction except to try and rub her head over Bunme’s. “I named her Little Kitty.”
“She’s adorable, sweetie.” Nala chuckled through a nervous smile before grabbing the prince by his arm and dragging him away from her daughter’s earshot.
“A fish, a dog, a regular cat even!” She paced across the ground, the king finding it extremely difficult to pay any attention to the exasperation in her voice and the frustration in her eyes with the sway of her hips and the jiggle in her ass. “But no, you come back with a Panther? A Panther, T’Challa?!”
“She wanted one.” Was his simple reply.
Her eyes bugged out. “She also once asked for a baby giraffe, but do you think I went and found one for her?” Nala nearly smacked the man standing across from her as she noticed the wheels turning in his head, an indication that he was contemplating fulfilling that request as well. “T’Challa!”
“I am sorry.” He broke out of his trance and placed his hands on her shoulders. “I should have discussed it with you first.”
“There would have been nothing to discuss because my answer would have been no.” She affirmed.
He sighed. “She…there was an incident at the school.”
Her heart sped up. “What? What happened? Why was I not called?” She turned around to look at Bunme and then him. “Is she alright?”
He shook his head. “She is fine, and I just so happened to walk in as it was transpiring. Apparently, another student said something about you that incensed her, and she used her powers.”
“Oh my god.” Y/N gasped and covered her mouth. “Is she-“
“The student is fine, absolutely no harm came to the child, but the teacher was not properly supervising them, and it was because of that the situation escalated. Then, another had the gall to have Bunme’s arm in her grasp after having taken her doll and saying that ‘this child is out of control.’”
“What?” Nala repeated as she felt her anger starting to build. Say and do what you want to her but come for her child and that was your life on the line. “She said that? Right in front of her?” T’Challa nodded. “Who is she? And how dare she put her hands on o-my child”
“It matters not. I have handled it. Both instructors have been released.”
Nala gasped. “You fired them?”
“On the spot.” He confirmed coldly, stepping closer as he watched her process all of the information. “I told you that I would take care of you, sthandwa sam.” He brought his lips to her forehead. “That includes her too.”
“Are ya’ll going to come inside or what?” Everyone turned to see Erik standing there with an annoyed expression, his eyes briefly falling on Nakia who was over with Bunme petting Little Kitty. “Been overseeing this all day. I need a nap or some sh-“
“Overseeing what?” Nala interjected before he could curse in front of her perceptive child. She looked up at the king. “What is he talking about?”
T’Challa smirked and called Bunme who sprinted over and giggled as he picked her up, pecking her cheek. “Come.” He grabbed Nala’s hand as the little girl held onto his neck.
“What-“ Nala stammered as she looked back to see Nakia, Hawla, and Shuri following behind with excited expressions. “T’Challa, what have you down now?”
“Patience, Nala.”
As they caught up with Erik and he heard his cousin call her Nala, it was the end of a personalized nickname between the two.
“Yeah, patience, Nalz.”
She glared as they made it into the palace, the princess anxieties growing with each step that they took. It seemed as though the premises expanded in size by the day. No wonder she often found herself getting lost on a daily basis.
“Oooh! Can I call you Scar?” Bunme asked Erik, causing both she and T’Challa to snicker while Erik maintained a straight face.
“That’s not funny.” He muttered, but not before agreeing, Nala wondering if her daughter somehow had another mutation that involved persuasion or mind control.
They traveled across the palace, reaching T’Challa’s wing, Nala almost nervous that they were damn near about to enter his chambers when they stopped a few doors down.
“Alright, I want you to close your eyes, okay?” He spoke to Bunme who quickly shut them while scrunching up her entire face.
“Yeah. Definitely in your sleep.” Nala mumbled as she could only imagine what was on the other side of the door, T’Challa ignoring her threat as he dropped her hand to turn the knob.
“Oh my God!” She exclaimed loudly, forcing Bunme to prematurely open her eyes.
“Whoa!” She wiggled in T’Challa’s arms as he let her down, the little girl running around the playroom full of toys, dolls, and other electronics. “It’s so cool!” She threw her fists in the air and bent her little knees to jump up and down.
“This is really nice.” Nakia complimented as everybody started to walk around the spacious room, but the War Dog and Erik staying particularly close together.
“Do you like it?” He asked walking up to Bunme who was being shown a Wakandan tech toy by Shuri.
Bunme dropped her dolly and threw herself at his now kneeled form. “Thank you, kitty. It’s the best gift ever.”
He smiled softly and kissed her hair. “You are very welcome, sweetheart.”
“Come.” Hawla grabbed a still stunned Nala and dragged her across the room, opening up another door to reveal a walk-in wardrobe for Bunme. Nala scoffed, her eyes watering. “I helped with this because if it were up to the king to pick out clothes-“
“You guys did all this?” She cut off, her heart full of love. “I just,” she sniffled and wiped at her eyes. “I’m sorry. I just, I don’t-“
“You are not used to people doing things for you,” Hawla said with a sad smile, grabbing her hands. “Well, we’ll just have to work on that, now, won’t we?”
Nala laughed softly and pulled her into a hug, her eyes landing on T’Challa who was standing at the threshold with a small smile.
The pregnant woman turned around and smirked, “I’ll leave you two alone.”
T’Challa mouthed a thank you to his dearest friend and allowed her to close the door behind her, his tall frame quickly ambling over to his lover.
“I still want to kill you in your sleep,” she mumbled, looking down at the ground as his hands went to her hips, her hands going to his biceps.
“I know.” He chuckled, lips going to her neck.
“Especially for that Panther. What does she even eat?”
“Humans.” Her eyes widened as he chuckled against her skin, pulling her body even closer to his. “Relax. I will take care of everything. I do not want you to worry about anything. Not anymore.”
Her eyes shut as his hands moved down to cup her ass, “T’Challa.”
“Hmm.”
She moved her hands up to grab his face, her eyes misting over as she licked her lips. “Thank you.”
“Eh,” he whispered, lowering his mouth to cover hers when the door was opened, revealing Dumi who Nala immediately realized had been MIA since they’d arrived back to the palace.
He really did not like T’Challa. That….that was going to be a problem.
T’Challa suddenly had a strong urge to end the guard’s life right then and there.
“Forgive me.” He didn’t sound sorry, not at all, but it was the item in his hand that caught her attention. A phone. “Your sister.”
At that, Nala immediately broke away and grabbed it from him, sending T’Challa a contrite expression. “I have to take this.”
He certainly looked disappointed but grabbed her hand. “Follow me.”
She watched in confusion as he led her through a different door off Bunme’s closet that took them into another closet.
Her closet.
She marveled around the room full of designer clothes, shoes, handbags, and accessories, her heart overcome with emotion.
“Take as much time as you need.” He whispered, kissing her temple before leaving her alone.
She was so overcome by the magnitude of his lavish generosity that she almost forgot her sister was on the line. “H-h-hello.”
“What do you want? Why the hell do you keep call-“
“I have to tell him.” She breathed, walking over to a glass full of at least 500k worth of jewelry, and that was just one section of many in the large walk-in closet. “Anajah, I have to tell him the truth. He deserves to know. This isn’t right.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Her sister sighed in annoyance. “This is why I hate speaking-“
“T’Challa!”
There was a heavy pause on the other side. “You listen to me. You keep your fucking mouth shut.”
“No. I can’t.” Nala sniffled as she leaned back against a wall. “I can’t keep hurting him like this.”
“Hurting him? Y/N…..where are you?”
She shut her eyes. “Wakanda.”
“Goddamn it!” Anajah cursed as other sounds of objects being thrown were heard. “How the hell did you…..do you have any idea how bad this is?!”
“Do you have any idea how hard this has been for me? Keeping this secret from him?” She countered quietly. “It’s killing me! Lying to him like this! I feel awful! He’s too good a man to continue to deceive like this, sister!”
Again, Anajah paused. “You’re falling for him again, aren’t you?”
Her mouth quivered. “I never stopped.”
Silence
“Y/N, do you remember when King Chike came to visit Niganda?”
Nala hesitated before she recalled the handsome but pompous young king who her parents engaged in business with when she was a young girl. There was always something about him that rubbed her the wrong way.
“Yes, but what-“
“He and his wife were unable to have children, but they did not want a surrogate who was a commoner.” Nala frowned, still not following. “He took a likening to me.”
Her heart stopped. “No…”
“I did not go to boarding school, Y/N. I went to give birth to his child after being prostituted in exchange for weapons and money.” Anajah spoke with a shaky voice, her anger mixed with her pain. “I was fucking seventeen and our parents gave me away to him, to be his whore, and when I tried to refuse….they….they threatened to have you, Belay, and a number of our people killed.”
“Oh my God.” Nala wanted to throw up, her stomach upside down as she started to slide down against the wall. She always knew that their parents were sick, but this was beyond sick. It was demented. A new level of evil. “Anajah, I did not….”
“Of course, you didn’t. You didn’t have to worry about that. They wouldn’t have pimped you out because they viewed your mutation as a hindrance.” She spat harshly before softening her voice. “That….that is why I’ve always despised you. What you thought a curse was really a blessing.”
Nala shut her eyes and dropped her head. “I wanted my baby, sister. I might have hated how he or she was conceived, but it was still mine. I grew to love it in the nine months that he was in my womb, but as part of the deal, I was not even allowed to see or hold him once he was born.” Anajah started to cry on the other end. “And I see him, hear them talk about the smart prince on the news, my son, and there is nothing that I can do about it. You can’t possibly begin to imagine what that feels like.”
Nala’s heart broke for her sister. She’d always thought the woman cold and cruel only to now find out she was just as broken as she was. “You told me to lie….to protect me.”
“You wanted to keep your baby….it was the only way…..it still is.” Anajah sniffled on the other end. “If you tell him the truth, he will tell the world and they will find out and use our people’s lives as collateral to try and get you to blackmail him into getting weapons and funds to continue to supply this senseless war in exchange for being in his daughter’s life.”
Nala started to breathe heavily because she knew that her sister right. She couldn’t even begin to think about how T’Challa would respond to such a situation, but she knew her parents. They wouldn’t hesitate to start killing people if they didn’t get what they wanted.
Starting with their own flesh and blood.
“But Wakanda was thought to be destitute back then. At least, that was the thought so why would they try to extort such a supposedly poor nation?” Nala pressed, frowning when nothing was heard. “Anajah?”
“Do you know who Ulysses S. Klaue is?”
Nala quieted. “The name sounds familiar-“
“He is a notorious thief, assassin, wanted all over the world for a plethora of crimes, but the most infamous of his acts? The murder of King T’Chaka of Wakanda.” Again, Nala’s heart stopped. “Do you know how he gained knowledge of Wakanda and her true nature? Why he went there?”
“Please don’t-“ Nala started to cry, her chin against her check.
“A war dog from Wakanda that was stationed in Niganda was captured and tortured for information, leading to us learning about Vibranium. Mother and father were…curious, so they hired Klaue-“
“No,” Nala was in full on sobs now.
“Our parents are responsible for the death of his father.”
“You’re lying!” Nala shouted as she covered her hand with her mouth.
"You fool! Don’t you see? There is no happy ending for you! No outcome where you get everything that you want! You have to make a decision, just as I did: your child or your country and your people. The minute that you open your mouth is the minute that you lose everything. It’s the key to your undoing. This is about more than you could ever imagine.” A beat. “You could ruin us all.”
